
When Amanda’s husband, Chris, interrupted a critical video call, she knew it was time to end things. But things only got worse when he showed up at an official meeting the next day and made a show in front of very important people.
Amanda stared at her laptop screen. She was finishing up with an important meeting with her supervisors at work. Her nerves grated along a knife’s edge, but not because of the video meeting. Her husband, Chris, was approaching the neat and cozy corner she used for working and taking on-camera calls.
“You’re amazing, Amanda,” Mr. Anders said.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Amanda would’ve hoisted up her biggest and brightest smile, but Chris’s heavy footsteps were closer now; he was almost upon her. She froze. Like a squirrel cornered by a bear, there was nowhere for her to run and no place where she could hide.
Chris slammed his beer down on the writing pad she’d used to take notes, stepping right into her space and her laptop camera’s range. Amanda shrank away from him.
“What are you doing?” Chris asked. “Where’s my food?”
“I’m so sorry,” Amanda said to her supervisors before tilting her head to answer Chris. “I’m just finishing up my meeting, honey.”
She looked on in dismay as her supervisors, Claire and Mr. Anders, looked at each other in confusion. Amanda could still save this. Chris might go away if she could find just the right words or precisely the right way to look at him (once she gathered the courage to look at him at all.) Once he left, she could play the whole thing off as a mistake.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“Honey, I’m hungry,” Chris said. “You don’t want to upset your hubby, do you?”
His tone of voice was soft, silky, and laden with threats Amanda knew full well he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on. She looked up at him now—she couldn’t avoid it any longer—and bravely spoke to him as though he were a normal person, not a monster disguised as a human being.
“I just need a few more minutes, honey. Please?” Amanda pleaded. “I’m on a call with my supervisors. We should be finished soon.”
She turned back to face her laptop squarely, but Chris clearly wasn’t done.
“Supervisors?” He chuckled and reached around to grab her chair. “Come on, off you go,” Chris said, giving her chair a little shake. “You know what happens when you work too hard.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Youtube/DramatizeMe
Indeed, Amanda knew all too well what Chris would do to her for what he perceived as ‘working too hard.’ She smiled at her screen even as her mind filled with howling terror. Some part of herself that felt like it might be vital tore loose inside of her.
Amanda let Chris shoo her away from what might be the most vital meeting of her career because she ultimately had no choice. She never had a choice. A familiar darkness closed in around her as she walked to the kitchen.
“And get everything on the table in fifteen minutes,” Chris called after her.
“Of course, honey,” Amanda chirped as her auto-pilot persona took over.
“I will talk to your supervisors myself,” Chris said.
Mr. Anders, one of Amanda’s supervisors, spoke to him. “Chris, Amanda is indispensable for the meeting tomorrow. Her presence is crucial for our success, do you understand?” he stated firmly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Chris’s demeanor faltered slightly. “Oh, yeah, yeah, sure thing,” he dismissed.
As Amanda left to attend to Chris’s demands for food, Chris remained on the call, his disruptive behavior leaving an indelible mark of chaos that tainted the professionalism of the meeting.
***
Amanda found herself in the sanctuary of her kitchen a few hours later, the remnants of dinner scattered across the countertops. The clinking of dishes filled the air as she diligently washed and dried them, methodically moving through the routine chores.
How did it come to this? Amanda’s mind raced as she scrubbed a stubborn stain off a plate. My career hanging by a thread because of my husband.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Youtube/DramatizeMe
The clatter of plates faded into the background as Amanda’s thoughts tugged at her. I’ve worked so hard for this and sacrificed so much…
She dried a glass, the transparency reflecting the chaos she couldn’t quite see through. Where do I draw the line? Why am I still with him?
The dishes gleamed at last. Yet, Amanda’s inner conflict lingered, simmering beneath the surface, unresolved and weighing heavily on her conscience.
***
The following day, Mr. Anders attempted to maintain decorum, apologizing to the investors immediately. “Apologies for the delay. Amanda will be here shortly. Thank you for being so patient.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Youtube/DramatizeMe
Mr. Whitney, a composed figure among the investors, nodded understandingly. “We’ll wait. We’re eager to hear from Amanda,” he reassured, his gaze flickering toward the entrance.
Finally, Amanda rushed in, her chest moving rapidly. Determination glinted in her eyes, though the darkness below her eyes showed her fatigue. “Thank you for waiting. I’m so sorry,” she managed, still breathless.
Chris barged into the room before she could collect her thoughts.”What’s the fuss about? Mind if I join?” he interjected, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced around.
He strolled over to Mr. Whitney, fixating on the watch adorning his wrist. “Fancy watch. How much did you spend on that?” Chris prodded, ignoring or unaware of the shocked and confused faces around him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
The investors exchanged bemused glances as Chris continued, his demeanor unapologetic. “Money talks, right? Let’s get to it,” he declared.
Amanda tried to rein him in. “Chris, not now, please,” she implored, sweat beading on her forehead.
Mr. Anders beckoned Claire urgently, guiding her to the corridor outside the meeting room where Chris lingered, an unsettling air of disruption trailing him. “We need to contain this,” he whispered urgently before calling out Amanda’s husband. “Chris, how about a tour of our facilities? We’ll show you around while Amanda continues the meeting.”
Chris’s expression shifted, a smug grin playing on his lips. “Sure thing, boss. Lead the way!” he mocked, his eyes darting mischievously.
Mr. Anders led Chris along the corridor. “Claire here will assist you,” he explained, turning to Claire with a forced smile.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Claire nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Of course, Chris. Let’s start with the main office area,” she suggested, pretending this was perfectly normal. Mr. Anders returned to the meeting, and Chris’s expression shifted from sarcastic and smiley to something else.
Claire noticed the change quickly but had to pretend. The investor meeting was crucial. “Show me around, girl,” Chris demanded, his voice like a sharp knife. “Huh-huh, do what your boss said. You know what to do if you want things to run smoothly, sweetheart.”
***
Amanda battled to maintain her professional facade despite the sweat beading her entire body and the heavy weight of her eyes. She glanced at the investors, trying to forge ahead with the presentation. “Apologies for the interruption,” she began and tried to direct everyone’s attention to the projection on the wall.
But as Amanda lifted her hand to point at something, her body gave up. She staggered slightly, her vision blurring. The room spun around her, a nauseating dizziness enveloping her senses as she finally fell onto the meeting room carpet.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“Give her some water,” Mr. Whitney commanded, concerned. The investors exchanged concerned glances, their murmurs of worry filling the air.
Mr. Anders’s composure snapped. “This is unacceptable!” he barked, his frustration palpable as he blamed Amanda, his voice resonating with visible anger. “Get up, Amanda! We need to proceed!”
“She needs help,” Mr. Whitney insisted, frowning at Mr. Anders. Mr. Morgan helped Amanda get up and seated on the table, but before they could move on, the familiar dial tone of a video call interrupted everyone.
It came from Mr. Anders’s private office computer. He hesitated but answered the call. “What’s happening there?” he asked, his anger momentarily diverted, replaced by shock.
The screen flickered to life, revealing Chris’s overbearing presence in Mr. Anders’ office, standing imposingly close to Claire, who was cowering on a couch, trying to dislodge the heavy man’s hands from her face.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
The investors’ faces twisted in outrage, and all stood, calling for security and Mr. Anders to do something. But it was Amanda who acted first despite her earlier collapse. “I need to stop this,” she declared, raising her chin.
This has gone too far, Amanda thought, her heart racing with concern for Claire’s safety. The investors followed behind her.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Mr. Anders asked, his voice far behind everyone else. “We need to get back to the meeting!”
“Chris, leave her alone!” Amanda’s sharp command cut through the tension as she entered Mr. Anders’s office. Mr. Whitney and Mr. Morgan hurried after her.
Chris stood there, hands at his side, now subdued in the face of his audience. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You’ve gone too far this time!” Amanda’s voice echoed through the office, her eyes blazed daggers at her husband.
Mr. Whitney and Mr. Morgan swiftly intervened, taking control of the situation, their focus restraining Chris until security arrived. Chris was escorted out, but his voice boomed through the corridor. “I didn’t do anything wrong! You all know they want me! Especially her!” He pointed a shaky finger at Amanda, a manic smirk contorting his features.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“Enough, Chris!” Amanda’s voice cut through the air, firm and unwavering. “You’ve done enough. It’s over.”
Once her husband was finally out of earshot, Amanda noticed Mr. Anders’ angry face. Smoke was almost coming out of his ears. “This is an outrage! You two have ruined everything! You—” His tirade was abruptly interrupted as Mr. Whitney and Mr. Morgan intervened.
“Mr. Anders, enough!” Mr. Whitney’s barked, one hand raised to stop him. “Your lack of leadership exacerbated this situation.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Morgan chimed in, his eyes unwavering. “Amanda and Claire did everything to salvage the meeting despite the chaos caused by your neglect. This is on you, not them.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Mr. Anders, seething with indignation, glared at the investors. “How dare you interfere in my business!”
Mr. Whitney shook his head, unfazed. “This isn’t how you treat your employees. We value their dedication and professionalism, something you’ve failed to recognize.”
“Furthermore,” Mr. Morgan added sternly, “they’re too good to work for you. We’re offering Amanda and Claire positions at our investment fund. They deserve better.”
Mr. Anders, his face flushed with anger, stormed out of the office. In the wake of his departure, the investors turned their attention to Amanda and Claire, commending them for their resilience and offering them opportunities in a more supportive and appreciative work environment.
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We Postponed Our Wedding Because of My Fiancé’s Business Trip, but I Accidentally Saw Him in Town That Same Day

When Jennifer’s fiancé, Chris, postpones their wedding for a last-minute business trip, she’s heartbroken. But on her birthday, the day they were meant to marry, Jennifer spots him in town. Suspecting betrayal, she confronts him, only to uncover a life-altering secret that Chris has spent years keeping quiet.
Six months ago, when Chris got down on one knee in the park where we had our first date, I thought nothing in my entire life could feel more perfect.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
We set the date for late fall, on my birthday, no less. It felt right, like everything in my life had been leading to that moment.
Chris and I were two halves of a whole, and as cheesy as that sounds, I mean it. He was the methodical planner, thriving on spreadsheets and five-year goals, while I was the impulsive dreamer, chasing creative projects and wandering wherever life led me.
Together, we found balance.

A stack of wedding invitations | Source: Midjourney
Or so I thought.
But then something happened that made me question everything.
A month before our wedding, Chris’s boss threw us a massive curveball. Chris had to attend a crucial business trip.
On the same day as our wedding!

An older man sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney
“It’s just three days, love,” Chris said, holding my hands. “I know how disappointing it is, but at the same time… this is huge for my career, Jen. There’s a promotion on the line, and it could mean big things for us. We could move into our dream home sooner, we could extend our honeymoon for longer… I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
I was devastated. I mean, who wouldn’t be?
But what could I do? Reluctantly, I agreed to postpone the wedding for a few weeks. I tried to put on a brave face, telling myself that it was just a small delay along our journey.

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Fine,” I said. “And I’ll make all the calls to the vendors and send out messages to all our guests. You focus on work and the trip, and I’ll do the rest. Okay?”
“I knew you’d get it,” he smiled.
Then my birthday arrived, the day we should have been saying ‘I do.’ Instead of getting all dressed, spending time getting my hair and makeup done to perfection, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the city.

A woman walking down a street | Source: Midjourney
My bridesmaids had wanted to spend the day with me, knowing that Chris would be away, but I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to see anyone.
“Why are you acting like the wedding is canceled, Jen?” my friend Avery asked. “It’s not. It’s just been postponed.”
“I know that,” I said. “But… I can’t help the way I feel. It’s just… never mind.”
“You can talk to me, Jen,” she said softly.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, but I don’t even know what words to use. I’m feeling deflated, I guess. That’s all. I want to be alone. But I’ll come over tomorrow, I promise.”
I cut the call and left home in my boots. The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks as I clutched my coffee, trying to ignore the gnawing ache in my chest.
The streets blurred as I walked, my thoughts spinning. I missed Chris. I missed him terribly. And I missed what the day should have been.

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney
Eventually, I ended up on the outskirts of town, where a fancy boutique hotel caught my eye. Deciding I needed a drink, something stronger than coffee, I stepped inside the warm lobby.
The soft hum of voices and clinking glasses greeted me as I made my way to the bar. The bartender had just started making my drink when something, or someone, caught my eye.
There he was.
Chris.

The exterior of a hotel | Source: Midjourney
In a suit, standing at the reception desk, talking to the concierge.
My heart stopped.
I blinked, sure that I was imagining things. Chris was supposed to be 500 miles away on his business trip. So, what the hell was he doing here?
Before I could think, I slapped a note on the bar, paying for my untouched drink. I stormed toward the staircase where he had disappeared. My boots echoed against the polished wood as I raced upstairs, my pulse pounding in my ears.

A note on a bar counter | Source: Midjourney
“Chris!” I shouted. “What is happening? Why are you here? What are you doing here?!”
He turned, startled, his face turning pale before my eyes.
“Jen! Wait!”
“No!” I said, my voice giving my feelings away. “You lied to me, Chris! You’re supposed to be on a business trip. Are you… are you cheating on me? Is that what this is?”

A man wearing a suit | Source: Midjourney
His hands shot up in defense.
“No, Jen, I swear it’s not that. Just… please, come with me. I’ll explain everything.”
I followed him down the hall, my anger simmering under the surface. He stopped outside a door, pulling a keycard from his pocket.
“What’s in there? Who is in there?” I demanded.

A man holding a hotel keycard | Source: Midjourney
“Just… trust me.”
The door swung open, revealing a simple hotel room. My stomach churned as I scanned the space, expecting to see some other woman. Instead, it was empty.
Chris gestured to the armchair by the window.
“Sit down,” he said softly.
“Explain, Chris,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “Now. Please.”

The interior of a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Jen, I’ve been working on something for a long time. For years, actually. It’s about your mother.”
I froze.
“My mother?” I echoed. “What?”
He nodded, his voice trembling slightly.

An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
“I know you don’t talk about her much, but I know how much it’s hurt you, love. Not knowing why she left you at the hospital… not knowing where she went or why.”
I swallowed hard, the familiar ache of abandonment rising in my chest.
“For three years, I’ve been trying to find her,” Chris continued. “I hired private investigators, scoured records, even contacted labs to trace potential matches. And… I think I found her.”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
My heart thudded in my chest.
“There’s a woman,” he said. “Her name is Margaret. She’s staying here at the hotel. I didn’t tell you because… well, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it wasn’t her. I didn’t even know how to bring it up. But a few weeks ago, we got confirmation that her story matches yours. She’s been looking for you, Jen. My PI told me.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“You’ve been doing all this for me? And you didn’t tell me?”

A private investigator sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney
He stepped closer, his voice gentle.
“I wanted to protect you. And… I wanted it to be a surprise for your birthday. If it was her, I mean.”
I sank into the closest armchair, my legs too shaky to hold me.
Two hours later, there was a knock at the door. My stomach flipped as Chris stood to answer it.

A woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney
When the door opened, a woman stepped inside.
She was tall and graceful, with streaks of gray in her dark hair. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, locked onto mine, and I felt like the air had been punched out of my lungs.
We stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us speaking.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“Jennifer?”

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
My name on her lips sounded strange, foreign yet familiar.
I stood slowly, my hands trembling.
“You’re… my mother?”
Tears filled her eyes as she nodded.
“I think so. But… we should go to the lab for a DNA test, just to be sure.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I said, my voice firm despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “I don’t need a test. I know it’s you.”
It sounded stupid, I know. But I could see it all over her face. It was clear, if this woman wasn’t my mother, then she was still closely related to me.
She smiled softly, her tears spilling over.
“You look just like my mother,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
I blinked, confused.

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been looking for me?”
She nodded, sitting down across from me.
“It’s a long story,” she said, her voice shaky. “Forty years ago, when I gave birth to you, there was a terrible mistake at the hospital. The nurse mixed up the babies… and I… I left with someone else’s child.”
My head spun.
“What?”

A newborn baby girl | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head.
“I didn’t know the truth until years later, when my daughter, well, the daughter I thought was mine, died in a car accident. A DNA test revealed she wasn’t biologically related to me. I was devastated. And that’s when I started searching for my real daughter. For you.”
My throat tightened.
“But… my mother left me at the hospital. That’s what my foster mother told me.”

The exterior of a hospital | Source: Midjourney
Her face crumpled.
“I know. I think the woman who was supposed to take you home ran away when she realized the mistake. I’m so sorry, darling. You were abandoned because of what happened, and it’s all my fault. I passed out after I gave birth to you, I didn’t know any better when I came to.”
Tears streamed down my face as I tried to process everything.
Chris wrapped an arm around me, his touch grounding me.

A woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
“You’re not alone anymore,” he whispered.
Looking at the woman in front of me, my mother, I felt a strange mix of pain and hope. After years of wondering, I finally had answers. And on my birthday, of all days.
“It’s the best gift I could have asked for,” I said softly.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Two weeks later, we finally celebrated our wedding. My mother sat in the front row, tears shining in her eyes as Chris and I said, “I do.”
And for the first time in my life, I felt whole.

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney
When Jake insists on cooking Thanksgiving turkey for the first time, Jen is skeptical but supportive until the result is a culinary disaster no one at the table can ignore. But the real shock comes when she discovers the recipe isn’t Jake’s. As tensions simmer and doubts creep in, she’s forced to confront the cracks in their marriage. This Thanksgiving, the turkey isn’t the only thing leaving a bad aftertaste.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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